She's Seeing Green
by Besosforpesos
Summary: When Draco makes Hermione a tantalizing offer- to spend one night with him- Hermione is torn between her pride and her desire. What does she decide? Set during HBP, but Hermione doesn't have feelings for Ron. Dramione. Intended as a short story but may develop into something longer, who knows. Lang/Sexual Situations. May become M in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any part of JK Rowling's fabulous universe! I only embellish. :)**

* * *

It was a single request.

"Spend the night with me."

She looked at him, gaping at him, mouth resembling that of a dead fish's, just flopping about.

"Are you serious?"

Draco lifted a corner of his lips. "Why wouldn't I be?"

 _Because no one has asked me that before. Because no one has wanted me like that, before. Because you're you and I'm me, and things like this don't happen to me._

Oh, how she wanted to. She wanted to shag Draco Malfoy. Not because he was desirable- he was, of course he was; who could deny those taut and wiry muscles, sturdy shoulders, full lips, and those flashing, _penetrating_ eyes- but because he was forbidden. Dangerous.

Harry and Ron would hate her, she knew. Instantly. Without question.

It didn't help that their narrow-minded views of loyalty further clouded their dislike for Malfoy's sleek arrogance and general disregard for others. No, they would never like him, never approve of _any_ sort of relationship with him. Let alone a no-strings-attached sexual escapade.

Hermione bristled at her evaluation. _So what_ , she angrily debated, _So what if Harry and Ron disapprove. They don't own me, they shouldn't care what I do._ _I help with their homework and I get them out of trouble and I might as well bloody cook and darn their socks for them, but that is all I'm good for as far as they're concerned._

Draco's offer was so very tantalizing. She stared at the boy- _no, man -_ leaning casually against the stone column of the hall, noting his amusement as he watched her mull over her choices. He licked his lips, his eyes raking across her body, from her stormy dark eyesto the subtle curve of her hips outlined in her form-fitting slacks. Blood pooled in Hermione's cheeks.

"I-" she began.

Draco lifted a hand in the air, regally, _like some goddamn prince_ , Hermione noted irritably.

"You'll meet me in the Herbology greenhouse at midnight if you decide to accept," he said, smirking. "If not... this offer will no longer stand. And you are not to come approaching me on this matter."

He left her standing, his footsteps padding quietly towards the dungeons. Hermione sagged against the column , hugging herself tightly as she contemplated the utter _unfairness_ of it all. He was in control, she realized, and she hated it. She had always wanted more control of her life, of relationships, of people. She should have known better that Malfoy was one to take it from her. He was a Slytherin brat, after all.

Shakily, she traced the outline of her lips with one finger, moistening it with her tongue. She slid her left hand down the side of her body, feeling foolish yet strangely desperate. She needed release, that much was apparent from her latest dreams. And yet, taking care of that _itch_ herself didn't feel quite right. There was something cheap and tawdry about the sensation of touching herself, and with a sense of shame she realized she only touched herself because there was no one else to. No one else to turn to finish the job.

 _Except Malfoy now..._

She bit her lip. If she said yes to him, showed up at the greenhouse per his request, would that mean she was nothing but another slag to him- just another girl he had claimed? Nothing more than some bint with jelly-loose legs?

She didn't mind the concept of extramarital sex; if anything, she found the traditional view of preserving virginity until marriage quite archaic. And archaic didn't suit her; she was a modern girl, a logical one who hated subscribing to convention just _because_.

No- it wasn't the thought of losing her virginity that made her hesitant. It was her pride.

She couldn't be just another one of those cheap women who threw themselves at Malfoy's feet. She didn't want to be _that girl_ that people whispered about and made side-eyes at. No, Hermione Granger was _above_ all that-

-Or was she?

Mindlessly, she watched the Gryffindor Quiddtich team assemble on the lawn across from her post. There was Harry, calmly yet firmly barking something to new recruits. And there was Ron, sullen as ever, looking despondently on the grass beneath his feet. And then, there was Ginny, who recently had become the object of nasty rumors in the bath-room...

 _Slut._

 _Nasty little bitches,_ Hermione thought with disgust, thinking of the way girls would easily judge and gossip about Ginny. _Those jealous harpies, they're only disgruntled just because she sleeps around._

"Oh, hullo, Hermione!"

Hermione turned her head, caught off-guard at the sound of her name. Luna approached her, dazedly looking around her surroundings as though mesmerized by invisible nothings. Hermione tried her best to hide her annoyance. Luna may be her friend, but Hermione scorned her erratic, nonsensical behavior.

"Hello, Luna," she said grudgingly, and a bit too harshly asked, "What're you looking for now, more rackleburts?"

"Wrackspurts," Luna corrected her, calmly clasping her hands in front of her. "But no, not today. I'm just noticing some odd glints of light. It's red here," she clapped her hands at something to the left of Hermione. "But blue here," she pointed at the top of Hermione's head.

"Interesting," Hermione said snappily. She stooped down to gather her things. "I really should be leaving, though. I'll see you around."

She began walking away briskly, and almost succeeded in clearing Luna, when she heard Luna's distant voice calling her. "The love-trouts want you to go."

Hermione spun her heel. "Excuse me?" she asked incredulously.

Luna spun around in a circle, teetering dizzily as she came to a halt. "They're telling me you ought to go," she said airily when she caught her breath. "And that you won't regret it."

Hermione turned away, spooked. But this was Luna, she remembered, heaving a sigh. Loony Luna, who always seemed to say the damnedest things that, in her own way, seemed to have the heaviest weight of relevance.

* * *

 **Ehh I know there are a lot of fics like these! Too many xD What I'm trying to do though, is to make this fic hopefully more psychological and thoughtful than some of the others I've come across. Not sure exactly what direction I'm going to take this story; it might be very short or, if I like it, and if YOU like it, may become longer (so make SURE to review please!). I'm still working on "Victors of Nobility" which is my priority here, so stay tuned! Please check out "Victors of Nobility," it's worth a read! (;**

 **xoxo, Besos**


	2. Chapter 2

" _Lumos_ ," Hermione whispered. She watched the tip of her wand light up with a soft glow.

Trying to keep as quiet as possible, she navigated her way out of the dormitory and brushed through the Fat Lady portrait. She held her breath as she approached the Herbology greenhouse. She normally wasn't a paranoid person, but every shadow she along the way startled her, and furtively, she snuck glances behind to make sure she wasn't followed.

He was already inside the glass-encased room, standing in the middle of potted ferns. His back was turned toward her and he seemed to be inspecting a sleeping mandrake.

She said nothing, just standing there, just breathing. She knew any words coming out from her mouth would be fickle. That they wouldn't compare to any of her half-formed, incoherent thoughts rattling through her brain.

"So you've come after all," he said. "Why is that?"

She swallowed her shame. _I want to feel something. To not be that predictable, boring, bookish swot that everyone takes me for._ "Maybe I just want little excitement in my life," she said, wishing she could easily lie to him. Her ego was suffering for it, and she knew just how pathetic she sounded.

"And why are you here?" she asked quickly, before he could comment. "Is this a regular hobby of yours- asking a girl to shag you in the greenhouse?" She tried to sum up as much acidity in her voice, but her voice still trembled.

"Hmm," he murmured. "I suppose I wanted to satiate this... curiosity," he said, slowly. He leaned back against the glass wall, sagging into it, his muscles fully relaxed.

He continued. "You being there, being close so close to me, brushing up against me in the hallways, seeing your arrogant head held high and away from me every time I get near you- it was a tease. I had everything I could possibly want, had anyone I could possibly want. It'd be mine in a second if I only looked at it."

"But you," his eyes clouded over, darkening like the billows of clouds moving quickly outside, "But you didn't want me."

"You know now that's not true." Hermione barely moved her lips, hardly believing that she dared to utter those words that were on her mind.

"Clearly not," he mused aloud. His fingers trailed across her collarbone, dipping under to the swell of her breasts, and then, back up again, trickling towards her chin. His fingers rested there, cupping her jaw squarely. She closed her eyes, and he smiled.

"But that's what I thought then," he said, his voice low and close to her forehead. "You always stared at me with contempt. I hated you back. But was always intrigued... "

"Tell me," he breathed. "I've always wanted to know what you were thinking in your beautiful brain of yours, about what you thought whenever you saw me."

She swallowed. "Why should I tell you? It doesn't matter." She shook her curls.

"Oh, but it does." He smiled lazily, stepping over both of her feet carefully. His knees brushed against her slim legs, and slowly brought both arms over her head so that his hands laid flat on the wall. "It means a great deal to me."

"What I think of you?" she asked. She wondered if she should open her eyes. But she imagined his piercing grey eyes, a saw that cut in, much further in than she would have liked. She knew she would never be able to look away, and that the moment she locked eyes with him, she would be trapped. So she kept her eyes shut, preferring the darkness that rested under her eyelids. She felt him breathe though, through his nostrils, warm air fanning against her face.

"I think you're a bully," she whispered. Her legs trembled beneath his. She cursed her body for quivering like a newborn foal's. "I think you're wrong in assuming you can have everything, control everything."

He laughed quietly in her ear. It was a sound of amusement, and she flushed in embarrassment. For a moment she doubted her words- he made her do that- and she wondered if what she'd said made any sense at all. She hated that, she realized. That he had made her doubt herself.

"You say that like it's a bad thing. Tell me, Granger... don't you like being in control?"

She said nothing.

He spoke louder. "I said, don't you like being in control?"

"Open your eyes," he ordered. "Look at me."

She opened her eyes, willing herself that it wouldn't hurt her, that maybe a peek wouldn't do anything _bad_ , that she'd be _fine_ , that maybe she wouldn't be trapped in his stare and maybe this whole thing wasn't as real as she thought it was, and that she could go back to her dormitory, back to her books, and maybe visit Harry and Ron-

"Control is a beautiful thing," Draco breathed, and he shifted closer to her. It was then that she felt it, felt that _something_ brush against her thighs. _Oh_ , she thought, her breaths becoming shorter, irregular now, _now this is_ something.

"Having control means having power. And you do like power, don't you, Granger?"

He placed both of her hands on his chest. "Do whatever you want to me. For five minutes. Whatever you would like, I won't resist. I'll let you take what you want."

She could scarcely believe his offer. It defied everything Malfoy about him. She couldn't help but wonder what the catch was. But his smirk goaded her. Enraged with the sudden memories of all the times he'd called her Mudblood and mistreated her friends, she lost all inhibition and lurched forward.

At first, she struck him. Twice. A swipe to the side of his face, a hit against his shoulder and chest. He didn't even flinch at her fury, his steely grey eyes assessing her coolly. Her anger melted away, though, as she wasn't a naturally angry person. Her arms hung limply at her sides as she realized what she'd just done to him.

"Malfoy, I-"

" _Take what you want_ ," he hissed.

So she did.

Her lips crashed into his, and she didn't even care that her movements were too hasty, or that her teeth scraped his lips too roughly such that she could taste his blood. She didn't care that she was probably an awful kisser, and that, despite her perfectionist tendencies, her technique was too sloppy. She didn't care, because her hands tangled in his hair, and she liked it, and he evidently was liking it too. She ground into his erection, greedily and painfully. Her body, surely forming bruises by now, shuddered with pleasure.

Her hips moved frenziedly to achieve that taunting, all-consuming need for more friction. His hardness chafed her thighs, but that was alright to her. She moved her mound closer to his erection, needing his cock, willing for it to be buried in her.

"I- want-" she gasped. She growled in frustration when Draco stilled his movements.

"What do you want? Speak up, Granger," he demanded.

She only moved faster against him, bringing his hands around her arse for him to squeeze. "I want your bloody cock, alright?"

"Not good enough." He smirked, leaning a bit away from her. He watched in amusement as she struggled to find release.

"I want your cock _here_ ," she breathed, cupping her sex. "Now be a _man_ , take _control_ , and give it to me!"

Roughly, he slammed her onto the floor, kneeling above her, effectively pinning her down. "Take it out." He nodded towards the zipper of his trousers. "Go on."

Hesitantly, she unzipped him. She marveled at his cock which sprung forth. He stroked it once, twice, then positioned it by her lips.

Wordlessly, she looked at him, her eyes widened with understanding. She hadn't sucked a man's cock before, it being something she never really wanted to do. But she knew he wouldn't touch her until she pleasured him first.

 _Selfish,_ she thought, as she licked at his tip tentatively.

"Mmm, yes, Granger," he said hoarsely, as she licked the length of his manhood. He gripped her hair tightly when she began to use her teeth to scrape the edges of his cock. His hips gave an involuntary buck as she swallowed him whole.

He was shaking so much, Hermione thought he would collapse. She should have known better, though- he was much too strong for that. She opened her eyes, taking in the sight of his sinewy, lean biceps, and the savage lust that showed in the harsh planes of his face.

She gagged a bit as he pounded hard into her mouth, and she struggled to swallow his cum without choking too much.

She couldn't admit to herself, not then, at least, that she liked the taste of his cum. She watched as he smeared himself all over her mouth, her cheeks, and down her neck. He turned her head, lightly touching her temple with his calloused fingertips, and proceeded to ravish the side of her neck with ardent kisses.

Her eyelids fluttered. She was lost. She knew it would be this way, yet she didn't know that there would be so much pleasure. She sighed, her breath a heavy whisper as his hands brushed againt her breasts. He circled her nipples lightly with his forefinger.

"Well look at that," he breathed. "So sensitive to my touch."

He watched, amused, as Hermione melted under his hand, writhed with pleasure as he flicked her hardened nipples. He grabbed the bottom of her blouse and pulled the shirt off of her.

She shivered at the sudden cold. Her movements stilled when he cupped her chin, stroking her cheek and jaw.

"Mine," he whispered.

Then, just as abruptly as he had stripped her, he took a step back. And then another.

And just like that, he walked out, swinging the greenhouse door shut behind him.

She wanted to hate him for this, hate him for stripping her, for leaving her aching for him. But all she could feel was a growing desperation for him to touch her again.


End file.
